Thread by @Imgomer75

8 years ago today, I was staring at the clock at 4am wondering how I was going to function when my brother was picking me up in 4.5 hours. I got out of bed and grabbed onto the wall as I slowly worked my way to my bathroom. When I got there I grabbed the sink and

stared back into eyes that looked dead. I tried brushing my teeth but I couldn't even hold the toothbrush because my shaking was so severe. I had no choice. I grabbed my bottle of vodka, sat down and drank. I drank slowly, as I had been doing for the past 3 yrs.

Trying to only drink enough to be able to function. So I sat there & drank for several hours. When I finally got the shaking to stop enough to hold my toothbrush, I brushed my teeth and took a shower. By the time my brother picked me up, I was able to function enough to go.

I spoke to the therapist, only I remember none of it. At one point my shaking started again so I excused myself to the restroom and drank a few ounces of vodka I had smuggled in. I guess during this time, she went out to where my family was hidden & told them I would only

need outpatient treatment for alcoholism. When I returned to her room, so did she. I have no idea what I said after that but she excused herself and I guess she told my family that she changed her mind and I would need inpatient treatment STAT. So in walked my family.

I only remember when the therapist asked each of them if they were willing to stay out of my life forever if I didn't agree to go to treatment. My mom's answer was, "Oh sure. I gave her to God when she was 12 anyway, so it doesn't bother me." I remember the look on the

therapist's face and the blow to my heart.

I agreed to go to treatment. I was not allowed to pack or go home, we had to go straight there.

I arrived at Betty Ford and even though they have a detox center, they rejected me. They said I was about to die and needed to be admitted

to the ER immediately. So off we went. I don't remember much of this either except having to drink the last couple of ounces I had brought because the shaking was getting to be too much.

The most important moment, to me, was when I sat there getting my bloodwork and there was

a gentleman next to me getting his done and he looked at me and said, "You're an alcoholic aren't you?" I said, "Yes. How did you know?" He said, "Because I'm an alcoholic and so was my son. But my son died from it and you look just like he did. Promise me one thing. If for

whatever reason, the hospital send you home. If it's for insurance, or whatever reason...promise me you will go home and drink until they admit you. Don't stop drinking. You need to promise me this." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "If you go home and don't drink, you're

going to die, just like my son did." So I promised him.

I was admitted into the ER with a .42 BAC around 4pm. They put me in front of the nurses station and offered me a drink, which my dad refused on my behalf and that's all I remember. I don't remember shaking, puking,

sweating, fear, pain, misery, etc. I may have felt perfectly fine under medical care. I don't remember it. Or the many others to come.

(If you zoom in you can see the bruises on my leg. I was always covered in them from my blackout falls.)

#RecoveryPosse #soberlife